Predetermined Love
by Datbonnefoi
Summary: Taking place in the mid 1700's in Versailles, The king of France arranged for the betrothal of Prince Francis and Princess Alice Kirkland of Britain. Confused with their own feelings on marrying before even meeting, comes a story about a king and queen who try to fall in love after marriage. Rated M for later chapters. FrUK
1. Chapter 1 Questions

Francis skipped down the steps of the grand palace, chasing after his little sister Marianne with the widest possible grin adorning his face. "Come here, little rabbit! I promise not to hurt you!" He chuckled after her, pretending to be slow to boost up her morale.

"Non!" She shrieked gleefully, heading straight for the garden's mazes as quickly as her tiny feet could carry her.

"Princesses should not run in their portrait gowns!" He ran faster over to her, scooping all 6 years of her up into his arms with a playful chuckle. "Slow down, little rabbit. We don't want to lose you in the gardens again, how would I be able to sleep without your sweet hugs?" She blushed deep at his response and struggled lightly within his grasp.

"Noooon, Francis I won't lose myself, I promise!" A perfect giggle left her lips and he hoisted her a top his shoulder, forcing more giggling from her.

"I'm not afraid of you losing yourself, but what if you miss dinner? Isabelle promised me she would make something Spanish for you tonight?" Her eyes widened and she cheered happily.

"Sí, sí!" She cried, loving the other language as much as her own, it looked like to Francis. He set her down at the top of the steps and patted her head. "Now little rabbit, go to mother, you know she wants you." Her interest quickly moved to trying to locate her mother and she zipped off, her skirts dragging behind her.

Francis watched her leave and his grin relaxed, taking in the moment of being alone on the front steps, a few seconds of seemingly private privacy. Until it wasn't.

"Your highness? Prince Francis ..." Francis turned his eyes to look at his father's mistress, greeting her with a polite smile despite the idea of his father making love to her more often then not entering his mind.

"Madame." He nodded his head in curiosity before walking straight past her, avoiding further conversing immediately.

"Your highness!" She followed after him, the click of her heels on the marbled floors louder than his own. "S'il vous plaît, listen?" He didn't stop to look at her, continuing on his path.

"What is it that you require, madame?" He asked with more bitterness than he would have liked. Francis took a second and forced himself to be calm. "Oui?"

"Your father sent me to see you, to ask you to attend to him right away, your highness." He shivered at the idea of her being his message carrying bird too. How used she must have felt. He sighed and stopped his walking, determining his actions as being rather childish.

"Yes of course, Merci." He responded with the proper etiquette, and she offered him a low curtsey.

He walked in the way of the main throne room, self consciously making himself taller, attempting to look as confident as possible for his father. He reached the throne room doors and smiled to the announcer and attendant, chuckling. "Hello, feliciano-" The happy Italian gave him a wink, the two having been friends since he was little before having the large doors opened.

"His royal highness and prince of France, Francis Marie Bonnefoi." Feliciano said towards the king in a loud, strong voice, and Francis walked in, treading carefully on the blood red carpet towards his grinning father.

"Francis! My son, come here."

"Father." He bowed low to his king, and dad, wondering silently what it would be like to have the two be separated. Francis walked up the remaining steps to stand in front of his father, finding it hard to smile. Then he saw his mother, smiling kindly towards him with Madeline at her lap, grinning impossibly wide towards her big brother.

"Francis, as ruler of this kingdom, I find it difficult to bring personal life and politics together, but alas the idea still remains." Francis' eyes darted from his sisters back to his father's and he furrowed his brows in curiosity and confusion. "For the longest time we have been at war with the British and I've finally come to terms with myself, a truce seems most intelligent." Francis knew better than to interrupt his king, but found it hard to hold himself back. "I propose, with your mother's agreement, a proposal of marriage between our two kingdoms, to become closer to our long lived enemy." Francis' eyes grew wide this time and he felt like shouting. No way could this happen to him already... He was still playing in the gardens with his siblings, how could he become engaged.

"But father, I..."

"No, my son and prince, I have found you a lovely and worthy candidate for your hand in marriage. Very pretty, and from a line of healthy, wealthy family, who will follow you faithfully. Royalty." Francis shook his head lightly, horror filling his eyes. He wasn't prepared to marry a women he never met! Or seen! What even was her name! Especially one without a mind of her own. His mind rushed back to all the stories his maid used to tell him while his mother was busy being pregnant, of true loves and Noble knights winning the hearts of fair and intelligent maidens. He had always wanted something like that. Someone to love him for him, compositely of him and only him, not for what his title was. As his father continued to speak his ideas, Francis looked straight into nothingness. How could this ever work out...? He turned up his nose and asked himself if he was a man. This is how it had been done for years, and will continue to be for centuries to come. He decided to accept this fate. In no way was it life threatening, and if it helped end wars... No harm could be done. Francis focused back on his father and nodded.

"What you think is best, my father, I will do."


	2. Chapter 2 King me

**Thank you for reading! Reviews and suggestions on anything are much appreciated! Enjoy!**

Francis waited outside the doors of his father's apartments, waiting to see him after he was done confessing his sins to the priest of the palace. His father was dying. He knew it had to be soon, the royal doctors had been saying so. Of course his father found it necessary to repent as much as possible before death came to visit him. Not disapproving of the matter, Francis heard that his father banished his mistress from France entirely. The priest must have said he had to if he wanted to be read his rights after death, and have any hope in moving on to heaven, Francis thought bitterly. It had already happened once before. When he was 14 his father had almost died of some sexual disease, and banished his mistress then too in order to repent, but he survived it that time. Nevertheless the King continued to do what he had repented for.

Francis sighed deeply as the double doors swung open to reveal the priest who bowed his head. Francis bowed back.

"My father?" The priest looked grave and unamused as he stared at Francis.

"He wishes to speak with you." The priest responded, uninterestedly. Francis walked briskly inside, the sight of his sickly, unkingly looking father greeting his eyes.

"Father..." He bowed deeply as a sign of respect, actually feeling something that felt like emotional pain. Pity for his father. Pity for himself.

"Don't bow to me any longer, I'm no ruler." Francis stood straight and stared at the ruined man before him. "You're to be king by the end of the week, I'm sure." A horrifying, sickly cough erupted from the man's throat.

"Please, don't give up hope, you've beaten sickness before." He replied with what would be the only thing Francis thought suitable to say to a man lying on his deathbed.

"Merde. Don't give me lies, I'm still your father." Francis smiled mildly, his memories transporting him back to when he was not yet ten, and his mother was pregnant. His father made time for him then. He cared about him. Suddenly Francis began to feel guilty. How he had long been mad that his father was the way he was... Now it was too late to change any of that. He still loved him.

"Yes, of course." His father offered a weak grin and coughed again.

"I am a hypocrite. I know. And I want to say how much I'm sorry. I'd never be like your great grandfather, the sun king. I'm a small star too far away to even compare. My son... I'm so proud of you. You have promise. You can help this country in ways I'll never... In ways I couldn't have. Be smart, be an example to the world..." He gave another retching sound, concerning Francis further but when he leaned in to try and offer help, his father put up a weak hand to stop him. "... And be absolute. You are king. No one else." He gestured violently around the room to emphasize his point, and then took Francis' hand and patted it. "And marry your queen. The key to success is family." Francis nodded slowly and smiled again, swearing to himself not to tear up or else he would look weak.

"You are the most wonderful king I have ever known... And you've made history, notable history, father." He gave an encouraging smile. "I'll do what is best for the country. Do not fear."

"Good." He raised his hand and touched Francis' cheek, before starting to cough harder, doubling over in pain and the doctor on hand rushed in, pushing Francis out. His father managed to speak once more. "Be the sun... And all the stars."

**and after...**

The funeral was large. Francis made sure to give his Father a grand processional, something his father would be impressed with. His heart hurt at the expense, but it hurt more from the loss, and the pain was excruciating when he saw his mother weeping. He walked with her, holding her close to him to support her, Feliciano next to them as an escort. They walked as the music played, and the casket carried overhead. As the body was taken into the large sepulcher, the priest blessed the ground and the Queen finally lost her composure, letting tears fall freely.

"Please... Don't make me stay for this, my prince. My son..." She whispered to him through her weakened sobs and Francis frowned sorrowfully, ordering silently for Feliciano to please take her away to her rooms if she so wished. The Queen wandered away with the Italian, leaning on him to prevent herself from fainting, and Francis bid the funeral continue.

His gaze leapt to marianne, who was clutching into Isabelle's black garb, a look of true sorrow in her own face. He wanted to go pick his sister up and tell her everything was alright... But now he has the responsibilities... And the expectations to act a King. Not entertain a child at the funeral of a King.

Screw that. He walked over to the little girl and her maid, and stood next to her, waiting for the surprised cry and sudden clasp of arms around his legs. The funeral still went on, and only a few looked in disapproval, shaking heads. Francis didn't care and remembered what his father had said. Be absolute. You are king and no one else. The sun and stars. He smiled at the memory and pet Marianne on her tiny head, whispering for her alone to hear. "I love you, little rabbit."

**and it was...**

Only after a few days, it was decided Francis be officially named king as soon as possible. After the funeral, Francis ordered the smallest coronation ceremony he could afford, the main celebrations held within the area of Versailles. Since the wedding was want to be had within the next months, Francis decided it would be too much to have three gigantic ceremonies so close together. Alas, it was hard to avoid. Once the world had heard of the death of King Louis, there was an onslaught of letters sending condolences and asking when they should arrive for the coronation for the Prince. Insensitively, Francis thought. How they would write a simple i'm sorry, then wonder who they should start sucking up too next. Unfortunately, he figured inviting would have to be done out of respect. If the neighboring kingdom had lost their King, and named a new one, he would've have expected to be invited by anyone that wanted to hold any friendship status with him.

He stood in front of the mirror, silently reflecting on his reflection, regarding the fancy, intricate beading and lace that covered his tunic. The royal symbol hidden here and there within the design, the symbol of royalty. Feliciano stood next to him, waiting for a word to start heading to the throne room. He was his only close friend he'd ever really known in the palace and he could not have imagined going through this without some bit of support. As the crowds gathered, the guests arrived, and food prepared, Francis still remained in his room in deep thought. What would his father have done? Or his great grand-father?

"Your highness?" An inquiring voice came from Feliciano. "Time grows short, and people wait impatiently, you know this."

Francis turned to look at him and he nodded curtly. "Feliciano...Do you know what my fathers before me would do?" Feliciano looked at Francis' face in the mirror and raised his brows to show his recognition. The Prince looked from Feliciano's reflection back to his own. "They would show how perfectly proud they were. Putting on a little show of infinite grace, and anything less would have been impossible to consider...Am I that capable?"

Feliciano cocked his head and nodded, pouting his lip in a bit of a mock before letting out a laugh. "I'm sorry...But of course you are. You will be the best King this country has ever seen. King Francis, the immovable. At least immovable from this spot-"

Francis laughed out, a real smile adorning his face, more beautiful than anything he could put on or fake. "You humor me too much. One of these days your mouth will have you killed. Let us leave now-" He rolled his eyes inappropriately, making the italian man laugh again as he reached for the traditional robes, littered with a thousand golden fleurs-de-lis and attached it to his Prince's back.

"As you wish, perfect king~"


	3. Chapter 3 What is love?

The wedding ceremony was to be even larger than the funeral, Francis' counselors insisting on it. The whole area that Versailles had covered was bustling and busy with planning and preparations for the wedding between France and England. After his father's death and the coronation, Francis wanted to plan this wedding down to details on his own... Or as much as he could. The idea of marrying this woman without seeing her still ailed him, but it must be done. He considered himself lucky. His father had married an older woman when he was only but 15. Now ripening at 23, he was really starting to embrace the mortality of his life. Like a french Hamlet, he filled his head with question after question about life and about his future, about death and his future Queen.

Francis stood in front of multiple carriage designs put together by several of the royal artists for the wedding ceremony. Feliciano stood next to him, lazily giving some maids cleaning some type of begging puppies eyes.

"Feliciano, how do you think th-feliciano?" Francis turned his gaze to the flirting Italian who now was kissing towards the blushing maids. "Have you no restrictions? I swear, maybe when I'm not planning to get married we could woo some fair maidens together into our beds?" He laughed as the maids scattered off and feliciano's eyes widened back to him. He cleared his voice and smiled, gesturing around the room.

"My king, be careful what you say. The walls have ears."

Francis smiled in mild amusement and nodded gently.

"Oui, and the ears have to be satisfied, non?"

Feliciano chuckled and focused on the task at hand. "Carriage. I like the one with the painting on the back, your highness." He added.

"I'd agree... Although part of me thinks she will be overwhelmed if she comes from England." He regarded the carriage design again and pursed his lips. Would she accept him? And this marriage? Why should she not? Arranged marriages are how it had been done since forever, the beginning of time. Did Adam get to know eve before they lived in the garden? No matter... She deserves the grandest wedding for her sacrifice, if he was right that's how she felt.

"Ehh, this is France, sí? I'm sure she'll be expecting something separated from her own experiences, your highness."

**Meanwhile Alice...**

Looked down into her tea with a solemn expression.

"Alice? Alice, you haven't touched your tea in a while?" The Queen of England stated, looking at her daughter in concern.

"I'm sorry, mother... I seem to have lost the want for it." She pushed the tea slightly away from her to show her point.

"Oh Alice, please... You can't act like this! You're to be a queen, for heavens sake." The English Queen set down her own tea cup a top the table. "How will your husband receive you if you show that you obviously do not want this...?"

Alice looked up and slid a small loose hair back into her high set bun before forcing a smile. "Of course I want this." How could she love someone she'd never even seen before? "I couldn't ask for a better match, mother." She respectively replied.

"Well he is french, but it's for a good cause. Even if our line is destined to become integrated with... That kind of...well it shouldn't matter, my dear. I'm sure he won't be that much of an eyesore. His clothes may be, I've heard. Completely effeminate. And you should hear what I've heard about their art galleries! Was his father a woman? I say i -"

Alice started to block out her mother's words, filling her mind with more important ideas. Would he really be effeminate? Maybe he would have more womanly shape than she did? Would she be taller than him? Would he even want her? What if she went to the wedding and once he saw her, he found her displeasing and canceled the wedding? Would that really be that bad though... Canceling? These questions flooded her head and she decided to pick up her tea to steal a sip.

"And Alice, I heard they spend more money on entertainment than anything e-"

Maybe he would be handsome? They did call France the city of love... Her friend had met a very charming nobleman at Versailles. She told her vague stories from when she visited for a day and didn't have time to see much of anything due to the size of the ever growing palace.

"And they have enough fortification in those halls to-"

France would be an adventure, Alice thought. Even if it wasn't love, it could be a life. Besides, Arranged marriages are how it had been done since forever.

"You must be careful, Alice. And don't expect love, I know what you're thinking and it wont happen. He'll put you with child and then find a new play toy within the week."

**_Afterwards..._**

Francis looked at the large ornate clock on the wall and pondered. It was already the day of the wedding and the palace was the busiest it had ever been in years. Word had come that Alice had arrived and was now being prepped in another part of the palace. As Francis readied himself he started to feel the anxiety of it all come in immediately. He couldn't imagine her face, or anything about her. She could be anything...

Francis was being dressed when Marianne came running through the double doors with her usual smile.

"Brooooother!" She sang as she ran up to him, and he greeted her by bending down and picking her up into his arms despite the annoyed protests of his fitters.

Isabelle, a head maid, came walking briskly after her, skirts gathered up in hand. "Marianne, sweet princess don't do this to me... Leave your brother alone, have you no sense of understanding? He is a king now, Chere." She looked stressed but couldn't help but smile at Francis. "Let me take her. We must finish your own dressing!"

Marianne looked up at Francis with an adorable pout and he pouted his lips back. "Francis, why are you going to marry someone who's not me?" She hung around his shoulders and hugged his neck as he laughed.

"Little rabbit, it would be an honor to give you my hand, but she has already arrived. So I'm afraid it is too late." He pet her head and she made an 'ooohhhhhh' sound to show that she understood.

"Will she like me?" She asked, her thoughts quickly jumping from one to another.

Isabelle rolled her eyes and stood back. "Your highness, Marianne is lacking in clothes. Might we prepare her properly?"

Francis chuckled joyfully and set her into Isabelle's arms. "Of course, little rabbit, if I like you I'm sure she will too."

"Yay!" The little princess exclaimed and Isabelle turned to walk away with her, Francis turning his attention back to the dressers. "Wait!"

Francis turned to look at her again and watched as she blew a kiss. Quickly he caught it in his hand.

"For luck."

**At the wedding...**

Alice heard the music from the other side of the largest doors she had ever seen, and honestly would not have been surprised if there was an entire orchestra on the opposite side. Her dress was the widest and largest she'd ever worn, large trains of fabric sliding out behind her for much too far. The doors swung open and her heart skipped a beat as the music overwhelmed her even louder. Her eyesight was obstructed by her layers of cream veils. As the entire hall turned to look at her she almost forgot that she was to start walking forward. There were so many people. She took a shaky step forward and started her own procession down the aisle. So many people. Hundreds. Thousands. She focused up to the altar finally, able to see her future husband for the first time. Her breath quickened and she felt like fainting there on the floor. She could barely see him, but as she arrived closer she started to calm down, her only intent being to get a good close look at him. Once she arrived at the altar she could see his face almost clearly and a part of her lit up. He was absolutely gorgeous. And he was smiling... Oh, her heart just melted and she neglected to look forward, and face the Pope which was seen as rather... Inappropriate. Staring at the King, who was also about to go under a sacred ceremony under God. Alice didn't care much for... Catholicism. Her fiance smiled a bit more at her sideways, his body turned forward, and he shifted his kind eyes from her to the waiting pope to try and send the message. Damn it! Alice turned her body to the pope and blushed brightly though no one would be able to tell under her mask of cloth.

As the words were spoken Alice looked past the pope to the wall behind him and thought. Oh dear how my heart feels. I'm being married right this very second... Will he still smile when he sees my face? I am not so sure. She was glad to have the veils to hide her small frown of worry.

**As Alice waited...**

Francis stood near the altar, his heart beating hard against his decorated ceremony clothes. The double doors opened and he stared down at the lady who stood at the very end of the hall. She looked so lovely in the cream white dress... And he stared at her veils like they were her eyes. How appropriate he thought, that she was to wear a veil... And that he would be the one to lift it up and over her head to see her for the first time. She walked closer and closer and he felt as if they could see each others eyes. Once she reached the place next to him he turned to the pope with a smile, noticing how she didn't turn with him. Hello? Anyone at home? He wanted to laugh with the woman who was so obviously staring at him. He thought it best to try and send her a subtle message. Look at my eyes, and see how now I'm looking forward? Yeees, that's right! He smiled more as she suddenly moved her whole bodice around to face the pope and he was itching to lift that veil to see her expressions.

The ceremony continued and he wanted to look back at her but it wasn't for a while until the pope finally told them to exchange vows. Finally it came for the time for him to lift the veil. He turned to her again and lifted his hands to grip each end of the fabric, lifting it over her head.

Then he saw her now smiling face.

And he breathed in, thinking about all the features that made up this new person the way they looked and he reveled in each one of them. The way her lips were smaller, and sweet... How green, bright green her eyes were. The light color of her skin. He recited his vows to her, looking at her now by permission and he drank up her appearance. Then she spoke in french and he tried to tell his mind there was no way to be infatuated with her, that somehow the situation messed with his brain. What a lovely voice, and such an obvious accent. A voice he wouldn't get tired of listening to.

Then they took their glasses of wine and drunk their betrothal.


	4. Chapter 4 bby don't hurt me

As soon as they were married and blessed by the Pope, the newly wedded couple was seated at the front of the ballroom. Now in the two thrones, Francis' immediate family surrounded them. The English woman had not said a word to any of the other family members. She knew which was the Queen, sitting at the left of her husband in a small chair. On Alice's right she saw a mix of different ages of girls, though most seemed rather young in comparison to herself. On Francis' side next to his mother, appeared to be the male side of the family including his brothers. Alice had two young maidens grab her train and pull it up with her, laying it near the side of her own prestigious chair. She glanced at Francis and then at the crowd now standing before them. They repeated the words of the Pope back to them. Long live the new King and Queen. Her blush was still very much alive and she feared it wouldn't plan on leaving her cheeks soon enough.

An Older looking man wearing a white wig spoke up and announced for the festivities to begin, eliciting a loud excited chatter. The Pope seemed to quickly, gladly step out from the party about to go enjoy some party behind closed doors. Before Alice knew what was going on, she beheld a line of people gathering in front of her, nobles, royals, dukes and foreign visitors, to present their gifts to the her and him. She watched as petite ladies processed their way forward with their lords and bowed low. 'Your highness this, and your highness that. We gift to you a statue from Greece, we gift to you a rare scientific instrument, Italy gifts to you a large collection of gems and rubies.' She listened, she smiled, she was courteous. Deciding it would be best to let Francis do most of the talking since he was the naturally fluent french one. Alice at least humored the most of them with a sweet merci beaucoup.

She found her eyes frequently wavering to look toward Francis and she couldn't believe how wonderful he was with every single visitor. The way he accepted the gift, the way he flattered them right back. Using sweet words. Almost manipulatively. She started to smile as she listened to him converse.

"It is so fantastic to see you again, Lord Antonio. Your presence is the most welcome." He smiled at the Spanish lord.

"Ah gracias, your highness, it is wonderful to see the palace again. I give my congratulations on this celebrated day!" He looked incredibly happy down those few steps that separated him from the king. "My house hopes it pleases you, we have secured one of the oldest trees from ancient China's history." He bowed and a couple of servants came in, wheeling in a large box, a gorgeous tree nearing only 10 feet with the pinkest blossoms. Alice looked at it in wonder, it was a tree she had never laid eyes on before, even in any sketches in the novels she read.

"Oh my lord, what a beautiful tree. Truly a gift close to the beauty Spain itself has, devine. A smart present, and a smart kingdom. I'm want in desiring to have more intimate diplomatic discussion with yourself Thank you, and your family, kind lord." Francis bowed his head and Antonio looked giddy in his spot, loving each word that spilled from the french king's mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, your highness, your majesty." He bowed again and again and Alice tried not to laugh as the Spaniard walked away to go have the tree placed in the gardens.

Then she heard Francis whisper that only she may hear. "Should I be offended that their nose not go all the way and touch the ground?" And he offered a quiet, small chuckle as Alice quickly turned to look at him, listening to the first real words directed to her.

"I do believe they are quite close enough." She replied with an equal quietness, smiling in her own amusement.

"I do believe I'd marry you a second time for your wit." He smiled and looked at her with those kind, sparkling eyes. She blushed deep and thought to herself.

As they continued the accepting of gifts, Alice looked to him, trying to find the right moment to speak some more words. As another gift was wheeled away, Alice looked at Francis and caught his eye sight.

"If you could how would you propose?" She asked simply, quickly.

He fought with a moment of confusion and before he could think of a properKingly the time came for the marriage feast, the King and Queen being led first and sat in the largest dining room in the palace.

They ate, and Francis looked at the far far far end of the table where she sat. How would he propose? He pondered the question and frowned as his mind bathed in his wonder. Was proposing just a part of fairy tales? He ate his food and chatted with his guests, but only lightly, his mind once again stuck.

"Your highness?"

"Yes?" He said softly in answer as he looked at Alice still, her eyes suddenly on his and he sent her a smile which caused her to look away.

"Your highness?"

"I said yes?" He turned back to Antonio, feeling small pangs of guilt for having spoke so rudely. "Dèsolè."

"Do not apologize to me, your grace. I was only about to ask what you were staring at? It brings out much of my curiosity?" He posed the question with bright, child-like wonder.

Francis glanced in the direction of Alice again to see her eyes on his and they both looked away from each other like shy school children. "I... Am looking at my queen, monsieur."

Antonio laughed, much to Francis' surprise. "Are you seeing her too? Is she your queen or wife?"

Francis furrowed his brows, trying to understand exactly what Antonio had meant. Was he being figurative? And where did this sudden advice start taking a route. "Is she not both now? I see her, I do, she is there...i'd like to think I understand her but she is too far for me to know anything but the color of her skin."

"To understand her she must become your friend before either wife or Queen." He nodded, looking unnecessarily happy with himself. How forward he was being continued to surprise Francis when in all honesty...he enjoyed it very much.

Francis chuckled softly and nodded. He wanted it to be that way. How would he propose to his friend? "A friend? Most men would not consider their wives as anything more than ways to continue the family line. Friend? Who says that about their female spouses?"

"Smart Men." Antonio smiled.

Alice watched as the rest of the festivities took place. The every so often gazes at each other were eating her away inside, and with every second that passed, she found herself becoming sadder. Is this what it would be like to live here as Queen? What even was marriage for? She watched people dance in front of her, couples, people who probably loved each other. This man didn't love her. Why would anyone love her? She certainly was not the prettiest girl there, she noticed. With this small, perfect looking french women in their court dresses that fitted them like each individual one was a deity from greece. All of them were Aphrodite. Alice felt nothing like them despite having the largest dress of all. In fact, she felt ridiculous. No person wore such clothing back in England and to top it all off her corset was strangling her belly.

Maybe her mother would be right. He would bed her, and then she would be with child.

That couldn't be all so bad though. She would have children. Little people who would love her because she wtheireir mother, and she would insist on feeding them herself because that is how it should be done. A mother and child's bond was the strongest of all.

Alice smiled at the thought of having her own children and started to stare into the nothingness.

"Your grace?"

She came back to the now and looked to her right to the queen sitting next to her. Well...The previous Queen. Alice felt overwhelmed at the idea.

"Sweet child, are you okay?" The older Queen said quietly so only she would hear her words.

Alice nodded and offered a weak smile. "Of course, thank you. I suppose only a little tired."

The queen nodded and smiled the sweetest smile Alice had ever seen. "I would imagine so. I know I usually cannot wait for the festivities to end. Forgive my sinning, but sleep is so wonderful to me, perhaps it is my age."

"Oh no!" Alice shook her head lightly. "You look so young and beautiful, dear Queen. I could not imagine you being so much older than me!"

The queen laughed and shook her head back, causing Francis to look over in interest from his own conversing. "No, your flattery is too much...Ah but the truth here is that will help you go very far in here." Alice looked at her quizzically and the Queen called her attendant over, requesting it be time for her to retire early. "Good night, sweet daughter."

The queen stood and Francis bid her goodnight as well, the crowd of dancing people coming to a stop and parting to let the Queen through and out of the large double doors, bowing their heads for her.

Flattery will get me far? How far?

Francis spent the entire remainder of the night talking to everyone but her, against his will. Still how would he have proposed had they'd known each other in any different social standing?

Finally when the party had ended and guests left for their rooms or homes, it was time for bed. Not time for sleep. It was their wedding night and in France that only meant one thing. Sex. The court of Versailles was a sex addict and although Francis had stayed away from that side of his heritage, there wasn't a tradition about to be broken. This was his wife after all, it was only right to be with her intimately tonight. Including all the pressure from everyone else around him. His mother had talked with him briefly about how shy Alice would probably be. Feliciano had brought it up weeks before, talking in detail about the details. Even Marianne had asked when Alice would have baby for her to play with. Tension was there and it was strong. Francis had never experienced the whole intimacy with another person in his life. Of course there had been moments of weakness with younger ladies in the palace, but never had he grown close to loving someone. Would Alice give him that? Is that what marriage was? Under god this was acceptable, so he supposed he should accept it too.

Francis was in his rooms now, provocatively shirtless under forceful suggestion by his dressers and waiting on his bed for her. What am I doing here? A small crowd of people waited on the other side of one side of the room, to hear about every naughty detail, to find out if there would be a prince soon. What am I doing here? Three men waited in the room with Francis and planned on staying there to quote 'record history' and 'be there for safety reasons'. There always seemed to be a person with Francis now 'for safety reasons'. What am I doing here?

Alice's heart was a jack rabbit. Three maids who were assigned to her helped prepare her, giving her a bath to clean her and another bath in sweet smelling scents. She didn't want this at all anymore. Now that the time came close for her to be close to him, they wouldn't even have time to learn each other's favorite novels or artists before becoming completely intimate. She didn't want this at all anymore.

"Your grace? If you would like I could tell you a few things about pleasuring? If you'd like, your grace." The young maid asked her as she cleaned out Alice's nails, looking sly and excited to tell her some secrets. She didn't want this at all anymore.

At first Alice didn't know what to say, but in all honesty the one thing on her mind for the next few minutes had been "Will it hurt?" She asked softly, looking more interested than worried.

The young lady shook her head and laughed lightly. "Only a little your grace, but it feels absolutely magical after the pain-" The other two ladies giggled and Alice felt like fainting.

She was already past the normal age of marriage. Of course it was different for royalty, but at 19 she felt so old and mature with these maids cleaning her, while also feeling naive and young. She shouldn't hesitate in tonights events, even if her heart felt all wrong about it. They were married. Legally, this was acceptable so she figured she should accept it too. Foolish alice, she thought, don't act like a child, you are an adult, and you are now a queen.

As if by instinct Alice straightened herself in her stance and looked at herself sideways in the mirror, letting the drying cloth drop to the floor to emit some more giggles from the maids. She looked at herself, nude in the reflection, and told herself to be confident. Confidence is attractive in England. She turned to look at her front in the mirror and smiled softly. She did have a pretty body, a woman's body.

"Can I wear something silk?" The girls giggled for a third time and nodded, the one finishing with her hair moving to the large assortment of gowns and pulled out the perfect one, holding it out to her.

"this, madame?"

Alice smiled and nodded, deciding that if there wasn't a way to escape fate then it was best to accept it with open arms.

Why Am I Here? Francis looked out the window until one of the men announced that she was here. He looked at the doorway and watched as it opened, seeing her standing there. She walked in gracefully and stared at him. He stared back. He couldn't believe how beautiful she was. Her hair was all pulled back loosely, making him think of how long it really was. She was garbed in the prettiest, thin, white silk gown. Oh it was white. She was still pure, and he felt in no right to change anything about that.

Her facial expression was one of extreme embarrassment though he could tell she was trying hard not to let it show, and it was more cute than anything else with that bright red on her cheeks. Then it changed. She saw the other three men in the room and it turned into shock, and he thought for a moment that she had frozen into that spot.

That was enough for him.

"Please gentlemen, if you'd leave out this instant, thank you-"

She still looked in shock in front of that closed door, and the men gave off weak complaints before Francis spoke again, standing quickly and looking at them sternly. For the first time in a while, he felt absolute.

"I said this instant."

And they turned to quickly leave, out the opposite door from her, like they had been scolded.

Then there was silence. Francis turned to look at her in the moonlight streaming through the window, looking at her face relax. A leak of breath left her lips and nose. They stood there, looking at each other. What words to speak? Or say?

She was so inviting, that it made it twice as hard for Francis to make his decision. They didn't have to sleep together…

He took a few steps closer to her, leaning gently against the bedpost closest to her. After a few more moments he spoke.

"I would take you out into the gardens." He spoke in english, making her eyes widen and eyebrows raise. "and into the mazes because it would be the highest honor to get lost with you, just to get lost meaninglessly and enjoy every second of it because it is _with you_. Then i'd take you into the center of the maze once we found it, to the rose covered gazebo where I used to play around as a child. And I would tell you how much I wanted to be with you for the rest of my _life _and never with anyone else because i'm a hopeless romantic. And then i'd admit I know life would be hard, but that It would not matter because you would make everything easier by just existing next to me, helping me and letting me serve you. Then I would beg you do spend the rest of time on earth with me and then afterwards, but only if god would allow me to marry a heavenly creature like you…" He looked out the window and tilted his head slightly. "In response to your question, that's how I would propose, madame."


	5. Chapter 5 don't hurt me, no more

Alice was horrified. Not only had she finally resigned herself to give up her purity, but she was going to put on a show! Her heart stopped and she stared at the other two men, not sure of what she should do next. Do I go into the bed? Do I say something? Dear god please don't make me do this.

She felt faint.

Then Francis stood, and she thought she heard him ordering for them to leave. She was in such a daze, she couldn't focus on the words. As they left, and the door closed, she let out a small breath of relief and immediately wanted to ask if they were coming back.

Then she looked at him again. Noticing really for the first time that he was not wearing a shirt, and she blushed. He was obviously fit, and it made her wonder what he did as a prince and as a king to look so strong and slim. She felt dirty for thinking about it.

He keeps looking at me without saying a word. Why won't he speak?! She thought, borderline annoyed rather than distressed. Though he wasn't bad to look at for a long period of time. Then he moved closer to her. She looked right into his eyes, trying so hard to find some kind of answer there.

"I would take you out into the gardens." She listened to him and her eyes widened as she heard English for the first time in a while. It felt amazing, and it was beautiful, even with the strong accent. Especially with the strong accent.

"And into the mazes because it would be the highest honor to get lost with you, just to get lost meaninglessly..." What is he talking about? It sounds ridiculous...

"And enjoy every second of it because it is with you." Ohh no, this sounded sweet. Alice felt her cheeks heat up.

"Then i'd take you into the center of the maze once we found it, to the rose covered gazebo where I used to play around as a child. And I would tell you how much I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life and never with anyone else because i'm a hopeless romantic." Her heart beating quickly, she realized that he was proposing to her. This was his way of giving her this experience that they had both missed out on.

"And then i'd admit I know life would be a difficult pursuit, that that would not matter because you would make everything easier by just existing next to me. Then I would beg you do spend the rest of time on earth with me and then afterwards, but only if god would allow me to marry a heavenly creature like you…" He gestured to her with an amused grin, then looked away from her. She felt like she really would faint, her face on fire.

"In response to your question, that's how I would propose, madame."

How does a person respond to something like that?

"Yes..." She whispered softly back to him, her hand on her chest as she inwardly told herself not to swoon.

"Yes?" He laughed lightly as he looked back to her. "You overwhelm me with words, Madame. Was not a question of yes or no..."

She couldn't help but smile slightly and she moved a bit closer to him, her mind and body wanting to be closer to him. Francis' smile faltered as she neared him and he turned away to face the window now, trying now not to look at her as his natural instincts tried to get the better of him. "Please, we are married...but I cannot be with you…"

Alice frowned up at him as she now stood rather close. Did he not think she was pretty enough? What were all those words if he did not want to display his love openly now? "Why?" She outright asked. Forget manners, forget respect. She wanted to know. "What have I done to deserve you turning your nose up at me? Am I not pleasing enough? It does not matter to me. You may do as your wishes are, your highness!" She felt on fire now, but now it was turning into anger. How rude of him! So quickly did the tables turn.

Then Francis laughed again. Really! "What is funny?! Am I that amusing, my dear king?" she hissed back sarcastically.

He smiled at her and sat down on the bed, laughing a bit more as she looked ready to explode. "Please, please no more...that is not what I had meant at all." He shook his head and she stood above him, arms crossed. "I have only respect for you." He forced himself to stop laughing and he breathed in deeply. "I would love you before I love you. Excuse me... That's what my honor bids me do. "

Her expression lightened and she started to feel embarrassed. "Oh. Oh, I see…" She sat down next to him and frowned more. "oh dear me. I'm so sorry. How...honorable?"

He looked down at her now, much taller as they sat. "Please, don't mistake me for disapproving of your beauty, which I assure you I am not...I have thought about you for a long time now, and I could not do a thing to hurt you." He blushed lightly at his own words and couldn't bring his eyes away from hers.

She tried to find her breath again. "You continue to flatter me...Do I deserve that, in honesty?"

He still looked at her. "Yes, I perceive so."

Alice sat close to him, their arms lightly touching. She reached across him and gently grasped his hand in both of hers. Right now, there was no other person she wanted to be with that was in this country. He did not pull away, but looked at her in confusion. "Thank you..." She said softly.

"For what? I have done nothing for you except take you away from your life..." He frowned, and looked genuinely sad for her.

"Thank you being considerate." She nodded and gently, slowly leaned her head down on his shoulder to try and show him that she was comfortable... Even if she really didn't feel that way completely. There was something about him that made her feel like he cared, that the tension was slowly lifting "The wedding was perfect."

He couldn't push her off or say not to touch him. He let her lean on him, actually feeling the comfort from the gesture. "Good. I'm glad for that."

_**They sat in silence until**_

Francis heard Alice speak again. "Why are you speaking to me in english?"

He looked at her again and smiled. "Because I am talking to you. You speak the English, and although you speak well enough french, I thought you might be preferring your home countries language after the millions of conversation today. Is that a wrong assumption?"

"Oh not at all... It is very sweet. And refreshing. You speak so fluently?" She asked.

He paused and regarded her longer. "Would you... Like a robe?" He thought about her lack of concealing details of a slip, not completely prepared to have full conversation with a woman in an attire that excited him. She gave him a nod, realizing how revealing she was with an appropriate blush. He stood and walked across the room to bring down a couple of robes from a rack. Firstly sliding one on for himself, he walked back to her and handed it to her.

"Thank you." She whispered and put on the robe.

"You are welcome." He bowed his head playfully, feeling nothing but positiveness in the moment. "And fluency? I lived two years of my youth in England. Having a particular infatuation with anything that didn't have to do with my home country when I was 16, I begged my father to let me go study in england for the sake of diplomacy-" He laughed and leaned against a large pillow pile at the head of the bed.

"And he let you leave for two years?" She questioned.

"The idea of him doing anything successful gave him the happiness, so naturally raising a son to be a diplomatic genius was a great success."

"You would say he was successful in having a son who has such fantastic knowledge?" She replied playfully with a grin.

"Of course. I have yet to meet him." He looked off dramatically before chuckling.

"You are the one who married me. One of the most intelligent decisions made by the french in all their history." She said, full of cheek.

"Mon dieu. You adjust quickly. You sound like my mother-" He chuckled softly.

"Then my voice is like an angels?" She fluttered her lashes.

"And you take away my plots of flattery. That was my line to quote!"

She giggled sweetly and covered her mouth. "Oh my mother would slaughter me if she heard my words. I feel like a child."

"In god's eternity are we not still children? The laughter is the medicine of our life." He sat up and suddenly seemed excited. "May I suggest something incredibly radical?"

She looked hesitant but her lips couldn't resist a smile. "Yes, please."

He stood and offered his hand. "Standing outside on a balcony in the middle of a winter night so I can show you the beauty of this earth?"

She widened her eyes, slowly nodding her head. "How can I decline an offer like that?" She stood and took his arm, and he led her to the balcony doors, opening them to let in a strong current of cold wind. She gasped at first, then calmed. The wind calmed with her and they stepped out together. Standing there, Alice shivered, reflexively moving close to Francis.

"The stars are never so clear, except late in the night." He told her, turning his head up to gaze at the stars. He shifted his eyes to see Alice looking up in wonder.

"In England the clouds always obscure the view... It's... It's so beautiful."

He looked down at her, practically holding her. She was so beautiful. It was a natural beauty, nothing about her was fake. She was perfect. "Yes, it's gorgeous-"

They both looked at the stars until Francis felt her shiver again, deciding it to be the time to head back inside. "Come back in." He guided her away, though her eyes stayed on the sky until it was blocked once again by the ceiling. He shut the doors and turned to face her.

"This was a wonderful night..." She said to him, holding her hands politely in front of her.

"Are you ready for sleep?" He walked to the candles and blew them out. "Dreams can only wait so long, Alice-" Then he thought, that was the first time I called my wife by name to her. A landmark in memories, he supposed. Among royalty.

She nodded and walked to the bed, climbing into the pulled back covers. "You convinced me at sleep-"

He followed her in, the only light in the room being from the moon light. He turned his body to look at her in the darkness, and could tell she was looking back. "Then sleep softly, my queen." And she closed her eyes, smiling through the darkness, and that's when he felt like she had truly become his Queen.


End file.
